


A Culmination of Pasts

by FireLordFrowny



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireLordFrowny/pseuds/FireLordFrowny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot has changed since the final days of the 100-year-war. When Ambassador Katara meets with Firelord Zuko in his home in the Fire Nation, there's a lot of catching up to do. In one night, they discover who and what they were always meant to be for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Culmination of Pasts

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written smut! But I wrote this as a silly favor for a friend after she drew me a raunchy picture of Katara and Zuko, and I got sort of carried away... anyways, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -FireLordFrowny

Zuko’s aesthetic is one that has to sink in and grow roots in a girl’s soul before she finds herself attracted to him. Katara remembers seeing him for the first time and thinking how _ugly_ he was - though, she thinks, the fact that he’d invaded her village, manhandled her grandmother, and kidnapped her new friend had probably biased her a little. Not to mention, it’s hard to have the hots for a guy when he’s chasing you all over the world.

It wasn’t until their brief imprisonment underneath Ba Sing Se that she’d noticed - _really noticed_ \- that if not for that permanent grimace charred into his face, he might have been handsome. Gorgeous, even. At the time she’d thought it was a cruel shame for such a beautiful boy to bear such a hideous mark.

Now, though, the mark doesn’t seem so hideous.

_Maybe it’s the hair_ , she thinks to herself. There’s something about the way it frames his face and hangs in front of his exquisitely golden eyes that’s so…

“Katara, are you even _listening_ to me?”

“Huh?” She blinks dumbly, shaking her head a little to clear her mind. Firelord Zuko sits before her, a cup of tea paused midway to his lips.

They’ve been talking politics for hours now - or at least, it feels like hours. Willing her cheeks not to flush, Katara says, “Oh! Yes. Of course. Where were we?”

At that, Zuko smiles a soft smile.

“You’re really not in the mood for this, are you?”

“What?” She argues, straightening her posture in a failed effort to look like more of a politician. “No, I’m just-”

“It’s fine,” he insists. “I hate it, too. You know, we can talk about this later. There’s no rush.”

“But, but the committee’s been bugging you for a decision for days now.”

“If I say there’s no rush,” He pushes aside the various documents and reports that clutter the table between them, “then there’s no rush.”

Katara knows she’s doing a horrible job at maintaining her professional composure, and she knows Zuko sees it, too. The way he’s smiling at her makes her want to avert her eyes toward something that won’t make her entire body feel like jelly.

“Well, um, if you insist…”

“I do insist. How about we get some air?”

“Now? But it’s the middle of the night…”

But Zuko is already on his feet, with one hand extended for her to take.

“The garden is beautiful at night,” he reasons, pulling her up to stand.

“Well…” she turns her head away a little, hiding her reddening face with a curtain of hair. “I don’t suppose I can say no to the Firelord, can I?”

She can, actually, and they both know it. But the fact that she doesn’t means something, and they both know that, too.

…

**  
**A small part of Zuko knew he wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her. It was hard to know it back then - after all, the only thing that mattered to him was his warped obsession with capturing the Avatar - but in retrospect he remembers his eyes always lingering on her for just a little longer than necessary. She’s still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and he wonders if it shows whenever they’re together. **  
**

They’re sitting side by side in the grass by the koi pond where torchlight and moonlight alike reflect like shimmering jewels in the water. Katara is especially extraordinary in the moonlight, and Zuko makes no effort not to stare while they talk and reminisce. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other, and there’s a lot of catching up to do.

“Things are so different now,” Katara muses, looking up at the sky. “The whole world is so _different_ than it used to be. You’re different.”

“Being Firelord will do that to a man.”

“It’s not just that, though, it’s…” She pauses, suddenly aware of his eyes burning into her. She expects him to look away when she catches him staring, but his gaze is deliberate and unwavering.

“It’s what?” He nearly whispers.

“It’s, uh…” She’s stammering - it’s almost impossible for her to think straight now, with him _looking_ at her like that, and that little _smile_ upon one corner of his mouth. “It’s just, you know, I, um…”

“Katara,” he laughs, sliding a little closer still, “are you okay?”

Wide-eyed, she blinks. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” He’s close enough now for her to feel the warmth of his face only a few inches from her own, and his hand slips into her lap to hold hers. “Do you think,” he breathes against her cheek, “that if I had made a different choice back in Ba Sing Se… we could have been happy together?”

“Zuko…” somehow she manages to say his name; she could hardly remember how to speak.

“Yeah?”

“What, um… what exactly are you doing?” It’s not that she’s at all opposed to his actions; no, not that at all. But she needs to be sure.

“Damn. I have to spell it out?” He’s got no qualms with doing that, though. His free hand rises to lightly place his fingertips underneath her chin as he tells her, “I’m coming on to you, Katara.”

She’s almost dizzy with some concoction of bewilderment and delight, and she glances about at the windows and doors surrounding the courtyard. Pulling her attention back to him, Zuko says, “There’s nobody watching.”

“But what if-”

Gently, he grasps her chin. “Everyone is gone. I promise.”

“...You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Finally her mouth draws to his like a magnet. This first kiss is long overdue, and neither one of them has any intention of letting it go to waste. Zuko must have practiced this moment a thousand times in his head, but nothing could have prepared him for this - the softness of her lips moving against his, the sound and feel of her sighing into him, the urgent, insistent way her hands clutch at his tunic… Zuko is no stranger to intimacy, but no woman has ever managed to show him this much passion in so little time.

Katara has no idea what she’s doing, but she’s doing it anyway - and from the look of things, she’s doing pretty well, too. Upon feeling his hands pulling her in closer by the small of her back, she moves to straddle him.

“Oh, _fuck.”_ Zuko groans at the same time that Katara moans out loud. The hardness pressing between her legs leaves both of them breathless. He holds her tighter, pulling her down against him, and every move either of them makes sends jolts of pleasure into their thighs. Katara responds in kind as he throbs underneath her; she grinds down on him, holding his face in her hands and kissing him for everything she’s worth.

His hands are wandering now, roaming, exploring, slipping underneath fabric to find bare skin almost as hot as his own. He allows for only a moment’s hesitation before raising the hem of her garment. Eagerly taking the hint, Katara lifts her arms above her head as he undresses her.

Firelord Zuko has beheld many beautiful wonders in the world, but none have taken his breath away so much as this gorgeous, topless woman in his lap. With his mouth hanging open, he stares.

Katara says, laughing, “Are you _sure_ nobody’s gonna catch us?”

In an awestruck monotone he replies, “Pretty sure…”

“ _Pretty_ sure?” She repeats, mildly horrified.

“What? Oh… yeah, yeah, I’m sure. I’m…”  

But he can’t finish his sentence now, what with his mouth being occupied. He kisses her neck, her collar bones, the valley between her breasts, until at last encircling his lips around her right nipple.

Gasping at the gentle suction, Katara winds her hands into Zuko’s hair, arching her back as he trails his fingertips down her spine, sending a delightful ache into her limbs. Her whole body shudders, and Zuko hums his satisfaction. To him, there have been few greater privileges in life than pleasing a woman, but pleasing _this_ woman? It was a joy he never thought he’d get to know.

He decides he wants her underneath him so he leans forward, lowering her body to the ground. Then, grasping him by his hair, Katara pulls his face from her breasts and back to her mouth and she kisses him hungrily. The heat and excitement between them now is electrifying as Zuko’s hands, calloused, strong, and gentle, caress her all over.

Katara is grabbing and pushing at the fabric of his shirt; she wants it out of the way. So laughing a little, he sits up and together they pull the garment over his head, tossing it carelessly aside.

But upon the exposure of Zuko’s abdomen, suddenly gravity weighs down heavily on the both of them.

This isn’t the first time she’s seen his bare upper body, but it never isn’t painful to see. He is covered in scars, and somehow they seem deeper and darker in the moonlight. He watches her carefully - the way she’s stopped breathing, the way her eyes, silvery in the night, are trained to the deep red scar at his center. She raises her hand to touch it, but hesitates in mid air.

“It’s okay,” Zuko assures her, taking her hand and pressing it to the old wound.

“I remember it like it was yesterday.” The moment flits through her mind in nightmarish flashbacks. She won’t cry, but her eyes are stinging like she might.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Zuko says, leaning so that his lips are by her ear.

“Yeah.”

Then covering her hand with his, he whispers, “That night branded my feelings for you onto my chest. I’d always known I loved you, but the second that lightning bolt hit me was the second I knew I’d never stop.”

Katara feels like she is falling. The world seems to be rushing by in a blur of motion and the only stationary image - the only image that means anything right now - is the man hovering above her. She shouldn’t be surprised that anyone who’d throw himself in front of a bolt of lightning to save her life would love her, but somehow the shock hits her anyway. She feels like she should tell him she loves him, too, but her voice is trapped somewhere inside her. Besides, she’s pretty sure he already knows.

So instead of saying anything at all, she resolves to wrap her arms around him, pulling him firmly down against her and he happily obliges, the feeling of her breasts pressed against his flesh driving him wild with desire. Their kissing is delicate but purposeful - who knew that Zuko, with his propensity for stubbornness and aggression, could be so sensuous and attentive? And who knew that Katara, always reserved and proper - could be so reckless as to have an affair with the Firelord right in the middle of the royal garden? A voice in her head tells her to stop, to at least ask to go somewhere more private, but something about the scandalousness draws her in deeper.

For the simple pleasure of looking at her, Zuko breaks the kiss and pulls away a little. Her lips are flushed red and wantonly parted, and her chest rises and falls with deep, fervent breaths. Part of him wants to keep kissing her, but a bigger part wants to see her face while he touches her.

Katara feels his hand traveling slowly, teasingly down her belly, pausing just at the edge of her skirt. His eyes are silently begging for permission. So she grabs his wrist and encourages him, guiding his hand downward underneath the band and as his fingers press over her mound, she gasps and sighs as unexpected bliss momentarily surges through her.

_“Shhh,”_ Zuko warns. He swears he can see stars in her eyes.

She’s incredibly warm and slick, the sensation of which nearly makes Zuko’s mouth water as he slides two fingers back and forth in the cleft between her legs. He moves slowly, deliberately, evoking a tiny whimper from her with every languid stroke.

Katara is biting her lip in an effort to keep quiet, but it’s hardly doing any good. She hums and moans and gasps, much to Zuko’s delight, and grasps his arm in a wordless plea for more. They still haven’t broken eye contact when he increases the pressure, sliding down further until he finds the hot, yearning entrance…

He pushes a finger in slowly, and as he does so, Katara’s eyes seem to gloss over in anticipation. She’s clutching madly at his forearm - she wants more and she knows he’s holding back - and a few moments later, she can feel his knuckles pressed against her vulva. She sees the tip of Zuko’s tongue slide over his lips as he watches her…

Her breath catches in her throat when she first feels it - the gentle stroking deep inside. The feeling radiates outward and her whole body feels like rushing water as she exhales pleasure out in urgent sighs.

Her mouth is moving, trying to form his name, but she can’t catch her breath long enough to speak.

“You trying to tell me something?” He says, half-grinning as he caresses her inside.

“Z-...Zu…”

“Speak up, Katara. I can’t hear you.”

So she tries again, but the only sound she makes is a breathy, pleading sigh.

Zuko says, teasingly, “Did I hear you tell me to _stop?_ ”

_What? No!_ She thinks to herself, shaking her head vigorously. “Uh-uh!” She manages.

“Was that a ‘yes, Zuko, please stop?’ Are you sure?” He’s laughing now.

She knows what he wants; He wants her to beg him to keep going, to plead for him to take her to the finish line. But Katara has always been stubborn in her dignity. When she musters up enough air she almost spits at him, _“Fuck you!”_

Now with a full on grin, Zuko says, “Oh, in due time, believe me, you’ll get your chance to fuck me.”

Her moans grow more desperate, louder and more urgent and longing; the tendons in her arms stand out as she holds onto his wrist with both hands, grinding her hips in ecstasy - somehow, even as her vision goes white with rapture, she feels she can’t get enough.

Zuko literally can’t take his eyes off of her as she writhes and gasps. The feeling of her body contracting around his fingers causes him to swell in his trousers until he’s aching. In fact, he thinks it’s a miracle that he doesn’t come right then and there. His mouth _really is_ watering now, but he can’t decide which part of her body he wants to taste first. He wants cover her mouth with his and share her orgasmic sighs with her, but he also wants to lap his way down to her navel where sweat and humidity from the night air have gathered. And oh, he won’t even let himself _think_ about what her juices might taste like, lest he explode on the spot.

At last, he withdraws his hand from inside her, and begins to gently massage her labia as she comes down from her blinding climax. She trembles, teeth chattering, breaths uneven and frenzied. Every time she blinks her eyes go unfocused, rolling into the back of her head.

“Breathe,” Zuko instructs, pressing his lips to her temple. “Breathe for me, beautiful.”

She hears his voice in distant echoes - she swears she can _see sounds_ in the form of shimmering lights. But she does begin to breathe at his command, slowly, deeply, until the trancelike dizziness subsides. After blinking a few times, her eyes finally settle on the Firelord’s face above her - he’s smiling, picking blades of grass from her hair before stroking the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

“Whoa…” she exhales.

“That was beautiful,” he tells her, wishing he knew a stronger word. _Beautiful_ didn’t quite seem to drive the point home. Zuko almost can’t believe what he just witnessed, in much the same way that Katara can’t believe what she just felt. They stare at each other, bewildered and smiling as he says, “You’re amazing.”

“ _Me?_ But _you’re_ the one who-”

“If you could have seen what I saw, Katara… what I see right now…”

Katara never liked when men made her swoon, but tonight she can’t be bothered to mind.

“Well,” she says, bashfully, “maybe I could return the favor…?”

At that, the Firelord raises an eyebrow, feeling himself throb in anticipation. “What did you have in mind?”

 …

**  
**Katara has never been in bed with a man before. She’s been on floors, sofas, in Appa’s saddle, in grass, and there was that incident in the treehouse with Jet that she swore to take to her grave, but a bed? She’s always imagined that for a man and a woman, beds were only for the most intimate of moments. And while she hadn’t been a stranger to kissing, those moments in the garden were already the deepest intimacy she’s ever experienced. **  
**

And so she thinks this moment shouldn’t feel as surreal as it does; _of course_ she’d wind up in bed with the Firelord after what just happened, and after the suggestion she’d just made. But even as she stares before her at her dear friend - the ironic love of her life - somehow she still can’t believe it. She has to reach out and touch him to make sure he’s real.

His skin is hot, hot, hot, and ridged with the remains of old injuries. She smooths her hands over his shoulders, down his biceps, and along his forearms until her fingers are laced between his. “You have to promise not to move,” she says shyly.

“Why?”

“Just promise.”

After a little while, he nods a small nod, already fulfilling the agreement.

Feeling emboldened, Katara leans in and begins to trail kisses along his jawline, up to the hollow space just behind his earlobe, then slowly, down to his neck and right between his collarbones. Immediately she senses the change in his breathing, and she begins to understand they joy he’d found in pleasing her.

“Lie down,” she directs, pressing against his shoulders until he’s flat on his back. Zuko is compliant and eager as Katara settles over top of him, resuming pressing her mouth against his chest and abdomen; she pauses at the lightning wound, loving the scar tenderly. He can’t feel much of it; the nerve endings are dead and numb and all he feels is pressure.

But as she makes her way down and her delicate lips encroach upon the smooth hairs peeking out of the waistband of his pants, sensation radiates through him like tiny electrical impulses. He longs to stroke her hair, guide her head downward, _anything,_ but no. He promised. So, breathing deeply and gritting his teeth, he prepares himself for what he knows is coming.

Hesitant, her fingers curl underneath the waistband, tugging down. He raises his hips a little - just enough for her to finish removing his pants. He’s completely naked and at her mercy now, and in the low, wavering glow of lantern light, he looks like a dream.

Katara’s hands are on his thighs and as they slide upward to wrap around his shaft, Zuko exhales deeply and clenches his jaw. He thinks he’s probably never been so aroused and eager in his life and he’s more grateful now than ever for years of meditation and discipline. Five or six years ago, he wouldn’t have stood a chance at controlling himself; keeping his arms flat against the bed, holding back the urge to cover her hands with his as she strokes him… when he sees her begin to lean down toward his groin, he shuts his eyes; maybe, he thinks, if he spares himself the incredible sight, he’ll last longer.

A few moments of yearning agony pass by before he feels the warm wetness of her tongue traveling along his length, soft and unhurried, and Zuko grits his teeth. He tries to take his mind off of what she must look like, her hair damp with sweat and draped around her shoulders, veiling her face as her sweet, tender lips close around the head of his cock… the warmth of her mouth feels like nirvana and it takes every drop of willpower in his body to refrain from caressing the back of her head and pushing further into her mouth as she bobs up and down. He doesn’t know why she made him promise to be still, but right now he almost regrets agreeing to it. (Almost.)

Katara watches him as best as she can from the low angle while she sucks and slurps, eliciting gasps and grunts of torturous pleasure from the Firelord. His hands are clenched into shaking fists and his chest heaves with each wave of sensation until finally, the tortured man just can’t take it anymore.

_“Dammit,”_ he exclaims, moving suddenly to push her mouth away from his penis. Another moment, and he’d have surely come on the spot. And as much as he’d have loved for her to bring him to orgasm that way, that wasn’t part of the plan quite yet. He seizes her by her shoulders and mashes his mouth against hers, tasting his own body on her lips. Katara responds with a squeak of startlement; it had all happened so fast. One minute she was going down on him, and the next he’s on top her, feasting hungrily on her mouth and neck and breasts with animalistic desire, leaving glimmering trails of saliva all along her body. Then the sound of tearing fabric rips through the room as he shreds apart her bottoms, and she promptly complains, _“Zuko!”_

“I’ll replace them,” he says tersely before parting her legs, and Katara’s annoyance is instantly placated when he begins bestowing wet kisses on her inner thighs, nibbling gently at her skin, his hot breath causing her nether regions to pulsate with need and unbridled lust. Zuko wastes no time plunging in, delving deep with his tongue, at last tasting the nectar of her womanhood. Katara lets out a cross between a sigh and a whimper while one of Zuko’s hands roams upward to grab and squeeze at her breast, fingers digging in like claws. His other hand finds Katara’s, and she latches on for dear life as he laps at her, the sounds and feelings of his slurping and kissing driving her out of her mind. It’s almost too much, and she can’t tell if it’s because it _really does_ feel _that good_ , or if it’s just because it’s _Zuko._ Zuko’s tongue sliding along her slit, Zuko’s mouth suckling gently at her clit, Zuko’s breath tickling and warming her. Whatever the case and whatever the reasons, her hands are now wound in Zuko’s hair, holding his face in place while she moves her hips, guiding his mouth exactly where she wants it to go.

He’s never been so in love with the taste of a woman, the feel, the sounds she makes in her euphoric pleasure - it’s ethereal, almost, a sound too pure and lovely for earthly ears. He tells her with his lips and tongue how much he loves her, and she reciprocates with sighs and moans that sound like music to him. He licks and sucks until she’s trembling, ready to erupt with just the right touch in just the right place, and she coos in anticipation.

But Zuko has other intentions for her satisfaction.

Planting one last kiss at the very top of her vulva, he begins to crawl up her body, leaving a trail of her natural lubricant along the way. He kisses her lips, but she’s far too out of breath and lightheaded to kiss back. Then, with his lips by her ear, he says in a ragged whisper,  _“I wanna fuck you now."_

 

Wordlessly, Katara spreads her legs wider; an impatient invitation for Zuko to merge his body with hers. He positions himself at her entrance, rubbing slowly along her slit, but he doesn’t go for it just yet; first he wants to look at her some more, take in how breathtakingly gorgeous she is. He wants to remember this moment - what she looks like just before they consummate their love. The way her hair pools around her head like a dark halo, the barely-there sheen of sweat on her forehead, the fullness of her lips, swollen and red from so much kissing, the soft flush across her cheekbones, and more than all of that, her eyes. It’s the same way she looked at him when they were trapped underneath Ba Sing Se together, the same way she looked at him when she told him she forgave him, the same way she looked at him underneath the blazing comet-lit sky after his battle with Azula.

And now, it’s the way she’s looking at him as he finally pushes inside of her, slow, but strong. They both sigh out in unison as her body opens to him, stretching to accommodate his girth. They moan together at the exquisite pressure throbbing between them, their bodies slick with sweat as slowly, his hip bones come to rest on hers. They stay like that for a moment, adjusting to the feel and warmth of each other’s bodies, sharing trembling breaths.

Then without breaking eye contact, the Firelord begins to move within her - slowly, powerfully, and gently. With each forward thrust, an earnest moan emanates from Katara’s chest as her body rocks with the movement, and Zuko can feel it resonating in his bones. Her nails dig into his shoulder blades, causing him to groan out loud as red welts from in streaks along his back. He pushes in deeper, firmer, harder, and presses his lips to hers again.

_"Zuko,”_ she sighs his name into his mouth, and he thinks its the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard into his life. Soon her hips begin to move in rhythm with his, and their lovemaking becomes fluid and natural. To think that there was ever a time when either of them despised the other seems so preposterous now - to think that they’d ever felt anything but love for one another is just absurd. Together, now, their bodies joined, Katara thinks that the two of them must have been tailor-made for each other - that every second of their lives, every tragedy, every blessing, every decision either of them ever made, has prepared them to love each other this way. And now, as Zuko moves inside her with strength and gentleness, and as she envelops him with tenderness, the tragedies of their lives almost seem worth it.

Nearly screaming with ecstasy, she wraps her legs around him and slides her hands down to grip her new lover’s backside, holding him in deeper and encouraging his impassioned thrusts. And then, like a rapidly rising tide, they both feel the beginnings of their climax creep into their toes. Katara grips Zuko tighter, and Zuko pushes in harder and harder still, and surely somewhere in their minds they both understand the recklessness of what’s coming, but neither of them can be bothered to care about anything other than the impending bliss that is now traveling up the length of their legs and through their fingertips. They’re panting against each other’s mouths, sharing heated breaths until finally, with the sort of unison only seen in wild animals, they both erupt.

While Zuko grunts with the exertion of his orgasm, Katara is silent with breathlessness as she feels the intense warmth pulsating inside her body, spreading and filling her most intimate parts with a feeling so foreign and wonderful that it almost brings tears to her eyes. Zuko remains rigid, holding firmly within her until every last drop is expended, and then he collapses on top of her with exhaustion.

He’s heavy, so heavy on top of her, and somehow Katara welcomes the weight as it presses her down into the mattress. Her arms are draped over his shoulder blades, limp and spent, and together, they sigh a sigh so deep that it seems to fuse their bodies together once more. They’re both waiting for the regret to sink in - the _what were we thinking_ and the _what if someone finds out_ and the _what if this was a mistake_ \- but it isn’t there. Neither of them have ever been so sure about a decision. Neither of them have ever felt so perfect.

“...Zuko?” She whispers at last, her voice slipping through the silence like wind through fog.

“Yeah?” He breathes against her ear, nuzzling gently.

“I love you.”

At that, he raises up to look her in her eyes. He says, “What?” But it isn’t because he didn’t hear - he just wants the pleasure of hearing her say it again.

So she does. “I love you.”

Zuko almost wishes that he could stop time. This moment is the most exquisite one he’s ever known. Rolling a little so that he’s on his side beside her, he takes her hand in his

and they lace their fingers together. He says, “Stay with me.”

Katara’s eyes are big, blue, and a little frightened. “How?”

“By not leaving.”

“But… how could I stay? I’m not Fire Nation. Your people, they… they wouldn’t accept me.”

It’s true, mostly. The people of the Fire Nation had never been very open to other cultures. But, Zuko thinks, a nation doesn’t make progress by staying still. So he says, “they

would if you were their Firelady.”

Her eyes go wide. “Did… did you just-”

“Propose to you? I think so…”

“You _think_ so?”

Then he smiles. “I did. I proposed to you. I… I wanna be with you, Katara.”

Her heart is beating so quickly, she thinks it should kill her. “...I wanna be with you, too.”

He lifts his free hand to brush his fingertips over her lips. “Then say yes.”

“Well,” she reasons with a coy smile, “I can’t say ‘yes,’ because you technically didn’t ask a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.”

When he realizes what she’s suggesting, he raises an eyebrow. “...Are you serious?”

“Very serious.”

“You want me to say it?”

“Of course.”

“All right. Fine.” He playfully complains as he sits up, and pulls her to join him. She’s giggling like a madwoman and he holds her close by the small of her back, licking his lips a little. Suddenly, his throat feels dry. Suddenly he sees their future in her eyes, beautiful and long and fulfilling. He almost doesn’t hear himself speak when he says it. “Ambassador Katara of the Southern Water Tribe… will you be my betrothed?”

The words sounded more beautiful than she imagined. She can’t speak. She can hardly see straight. His voice is still echoing in her head as she finally breathes, “Yes. Yes.”

Their ensuing embrace is warmer and lovelier than anything either of them have ever felt, and as they recline together, all they can think about is the joy that will be the rest of their lives.

 


End file.
